


13x14 Coda - The Road is Paved With...

by FunnyWings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode: s13e14 Good Intentions, M/M, all the words and none of the communication, coda fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 22:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13867284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunnyWings/pseuds/FunnyWings
Summary: "Cas, when you start looking at the big picture, you go blind. Every time."





	13x14 Coda - The Road is Paved With...

Dean doesn’t want to talk to him.

Sam can do all his dumb speeches about working through it together that he wants, but he doesn’t get it. It’s not just about Donatello, or being called out on the fact Dean can be a bit of a hypocrite on occasion. Sure, it sucked having his own damn words thrown back at him, but that was barely half the problem.

No, the problem was (the problem always is) that he’s got history with Cas. It’s easy to say water under the bridge when Cas comes back (when he finally comes back each time), but then the next big bad comes along and Dean feels like they’re swimming in circles. And each time Dean has to look at the past with fresh eyes, there’s more muck drudged up that he has to wade through to salvage one of the most important relationships in his life. Cas is family and that means something, but it would be so much easier if Dean didn’t have to forgive him over and over and act like none of it messed with his head.

“How’s research going?” Sam asks. It’s two in the morning and Dean’s sitting on the far side of the library, as physically far away from a certain angel as he can get. He doesn’t speak up.

“I’ve found nothing,” Castiel says, giving up waiting for Dean to respond. “Perhaps you two should sleep. I’ll keep looking.”

“Why? So you can run off and do something else without asking us?” Dean asks. He can’t help it. He turns a page and doesn’t check to see if Cas is looking at him. He knows he is, but he doesn’t look.

“I didn’t realize every choice I make requires your permission,” Cas snarks back, which is bullshit and also untrue. It’s not like Dean is some abusive fucking husband that locks his wife in a cellar when she decides to buy a different brand of soup, Jesus Christ. Dean looks up long enough to glower at Cas before going back to pretending to look for information in his book.

“Well,” Sam says, sounding uncomfortable. “I’m going to sleep. You two just… whatever. The sooner we figure this out, the sooner we get Mom back. Remember that.”

Dean nods, listening as Sam walks off. He should leave too. Cas might do something stupid, like try to talk to him. Or even worse, just sit there and ignore Dean all night like it doesn’t even matter that Dean’s giving him the silent treatment. Maybe Dean is a glutton for punishment, because he stays right where he is.

“I might have found something,” Cas says, an hour later. Dean’s eyes have been drooping, and he’s yawned more than once in the last twenty minutes. He’s pretty sure the only thing keeping him up right now is spite. Spite, and guilt and the memory of his mom screaming as she was tortured (not on the rack, not in hell, not Alistair, god damn it).

“Great. Tell Sam in the morning.”

“Dean.”

“What?” Dean snaps. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

Cas looks back at him, coolly.

“Respect,” Cas says at last. “Trust.”

“Yeah, because that’s always worked out so great for me, trusting you,” Dean says. Already the anger is draining out of him, like he just can’t hold it in. He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks again his voice comes out softer. “You gotta know what you did was wrong, Cas. You’ve just gotta.”

“Yes,” Cas says. “It was wrong. But it was the least wrong choice. Killing him would have been kinder perhaps, but he was gone. He was a danger to himself and others, and more powerful than you understand. He didn’t have a soul, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean says. He swallows down the arguments and accusations and goes with what he wants to know most. “So that’s what happens. When angels screw with people’s heads.”

“Without consent,” Cas corrects. His eyes shift sideways. “It’s frowned upon.”

Dean feels a sinking sensation in his stomach.

“So… with Lisa and Ben?” he asks, feeling like their names were out of place. He hadn’t thought about them in years. He used to. Sometimes he’d entertain the idea that he could go back and make it work. That someday everything could go back to the way it was that one year after the apocalypse except this time Dean wouldn’t drink himself into a stupor the first two months, and Lisa wouldn’t get stabbed in the gut, and Ben wouldn’t grow up with a father figure that yelled at him every time he put a foot out of line. Those ideas had all stopped around the time Dean became a demon, and he hadn’t made a habit of of revisiting those memories since. It was a dumb daydream, and it made Dean feel like a tool to indulge it.

“You don’t want to hear this,” Castiel says. Dean just looks at him, and moments later he caves. “Yes, I had their permission. I spoke to them before… They wanted to be safe, Dean. It wasn’t as if… they would have wanted to remember you, if things were different.”

Right. Tear Dean’s heart out a little why don’t you. See, it’s one thing removing himself from someone’s life for their safety, but hearing that Ben and Lisa had agreed to cut him out isn’t something Dean should have put himself through. Another thing he had to carry that he wishes he didn’t know.

“And Sam?” Dean asks. “When you… when you…”

Dean can’t finish his sentence. Castiel knows what he’s talking about anyway.

“The wall was artificial. It didn’t count as part of his mind, so I didn’t need to ask,” Cas says quietly. Regret hangs heavy in the air between them, and Dean knows better than to poke this topic with a stick but he’s doing it anyway. “Changing a mind or stripping it without permission is something I’ve never done before. I didn’t do it lightly this time.”

“Oh, so it’s worse this time,” says Dean, eyes falling to the floor. “Good to know.”

From one second to the next, Cas crosses the room. It isn’t long before Dean can’t help but look at him again.

“Say what you mean,” Cas asks. Pleads even, if Dean listens hard enough.

“Sometimes the ends don’t justify the means,” says Dean. “And I say bullshit all the time. If you could not take every word that comes out of my mouth as gospel, that would be great.”

“You want to save your mother.”

“Yeah, and I don’t want to lose you in the process. So fucking sue me,” says Dean. “Cas, when you start looking at the big picture, you go blind. Every time.”

“Donatello hurt you. He hurt Sam,” says Cas. “And he was keeping us from finding Jack and Mary.”

“You ruined his life.”

“That happened long before I touched him,” said Cas. “And you’ve done worse than that to protect the people you love.”

“I’m trying to change.”

“Are you?” Cas asks. “Tearing holes between universes could ruin a lot more lives than what I’ve done. I was working under the assumption we still plan on doing this.”

“That’s different,” says Dean, not knowing if it’s different at all. Cas stares at him in disbelief, and his shoulders slump as he sits down heavily in the seat across from Dean.

“I’ve long since resigned myself to the fact,” Cas says. “That I’m never going to be able to make it up to you. You try to forgive me-“

“Cas-“

“-but you don’t. You can’t,” Cas finishes sadly. “And I’m willing to live with that if you’re safe. I will never apologize for keeping you safe.”

“I don’t need you to keep me safe,” says Dean. “I need you to be a person. I need you to fucking hesitate before marching off to mindfuck a prophet. I need to know that me trusting you isn’t the same dumb decision I’m making again and again.”

“And if I can’t be what you need?” Cas asks, and Dean doesn’t know what he’s fishing for, but he reaches out and grabs a fistful of Cas’ sleeve. Cas looks down at his clenched hand blankly. Cas is hiding something or talking around something, and Dean is just so sick of it all.

“Can you look at me?” Dean asks. It takes a second, but Cas gets there. Dean makes sure he’s paying attention before he says anything else. “You wanna hear it like it is, Cas?”

“Almost certainly not,” Cas says, not without a touch of dampened humor. Dean gets the impression Cas is laughing at himself more than anything. Or perhaps laughing is too strong a word for it. “But don’t let that stop you.”

“I’m not trying to hold anything against you, okay? It’s not like I don’t wish I could forget,” says Dean. Cas grimaces and looks away, and Dean reaches out and grabs another fistful of his ugly trench coat because his stupid angel is going to pay attention for once. “But Cas, c’mon.”

“You’re afraid of what I might do.”

“‘Whatever it takes’ is a long damn list, Cas,” says Dean. “And you… You like throwing yourself on swords. And spears. And at Lucifer-“

“Oh, I see. I wasn’t aware I should have been apologizing for dying, as well. How thoughtless of me,” says Cas. He’s bitter and annoying and awful, and sometimes Dean loves him so much it hurts. What a fucker.

“Damn straight,” Dean mutters, mostly to himself. “If you could just not lose yourself in a cause for once, that would be awesome.”

“If I didn’t lose myself in a cause, this world might look a lot more like the world we’re trying to save Jack and Mary from,” says Cas. It’s a hit below the belt, but Dean rolls with it because at least Cas is listening. “I’ve learned from my mistakes, Dean. Please trust me.”

“The fucked thing is I do,” Dean says. “Every fucking time. Even when I know I shouldn’t.”

Cas is silent for a long time after this.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“You always say you know what you’re doing,” says Dean, but there’s little heat behind it. “Here’s the open secret of the century: I don’t know what I’m doing. I have no fucking clue. That’s what being human is.”

“I’m not human,” Cas points out. “I think you forget that sometimes.”

“Yeah well,” Dean says, moving one of his hands so its resting over Cas’ heart. It beats slowly beneath Cas’ ribcage. “You’re not exactly made of sand, either, are you.”

Instead of saying a word, Cas lifts a hand to rest on top of Dean’s. A moment passes in which Dean feels something like potential. Anything could happen.

“I’m going to sleep,” Dean says, effectively ending that moment. He’s gotten good at that over the years, and Cas hardly ever looks disappointed anymore. No, now the guy has settled firmly into resigned when Dean takes two steps back for every step forward. “Try not to…”

Dean trails off. Cas is already back to researching. Instead of finishing his sentence, Dean leans down and presses a kiss to Cas’ temple. He can almost feel the angel freeze.

“Just-“ Dean starts, but he can’t think of a damn thing to say. “Try not to lose track of who the fuck you are, because I’ve met you broken down and charged up and out of your mind. I’ll take you however I can get you, Cas, but it’s nice when you’re just… you.”

“You should sleep,” Cas says. Dean tries not to take it like a slap in the face. Cas is a quick study and he spends more than enough time watching the way Dean operates to pick up on how to distance people. For the umpteenth fucking time, Dean wishes Cas had a better role model.

“Yeah,” Dean says. “Yeah, okay.”

So Dean goes, and then sinks into his bed and lays awake all night. All the while he tells himself Cas has good intentions. That’s gotta be worth something, right?

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you liked.


End file.
